


What Would Woody Do

by rebecca_selene



Category: Toy Story Series (Movies)
Genre: Community: disney_kink, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape, Rape Aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-05
Updated: 2012-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-29 00:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebecca_selene/pseuds/rebecca_selene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There is no greater bond than that of a child and his toy, no matter how old he gets.</i> Woody can only watch helplessly as Andy fights against Sid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Would Woody Do

**Author's Note:**

> written for a [disney_kink](http://community.livejournal.com/disney_kink/) [prompt](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com/4400.html?thread=4481584#t4481584) AND for my [](http://hc_bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hc_bingo.livejournal.com/)**hc_bingo** card prompt: rape/non-con

“Bye, Mom!” Woody heard Andy call out the front door as his mother and sister went food shopping, leaving Andy and Sid to study for their Chemistry exam. Sid already sat on the floor near Andy’s desk, textbook and papers spread out before him.

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” Andy said as he returned. “Just don’t mess up my concentration, all right?” He directed a pointed look toward his on-again off-again friend (really, Woody thought, it was only ever off because Sid was doing community service for some petty crime or another), sat down on the ground in the center of the room, and buried himself in his notes.

After about five minutes of silence, only interrupted by the rustle of pages turning, Sid looked over to Andy with a narrowed gaze that made Woody instantly suspicious, crawled over to him, and closed Andy’s book.

“Let’s play a game,” Sid said before Andy could protest. He pushed the other boy down, and Woody tensed.

“Sid, man, what the hell?” Andy pushed away from the other teen, but Sid kept coming. He knocked Andy’s books away and straddled his waist, pinning him to the floor.

“Come on, Andy,” Sid growled, “it’s just a little fooling around.”

“Sid, get off!” Andy bucked and tried to shove Sid off, to no avail. Woody watched in horror as Sid gripped Andy’s wrists and held them to the ground with one hand while his other undid Andy’s jeans. Andy writhed, cursing, but Sid ignored him.

After sliding Andy’s jeans off one leg, Sid pressed a hand against Andy’s boxers. “Is that all you’ve got?” he mocked, tugging the thin fabric down.

Andy’s tone turned pleading, the sound piercing to Woody’s ears. “Sid, please, let me go.” His torso and shoulders clenched as if trying to make himself small, but Sid’s grip on his arms prevented the movement.

“See, this is the fun part.” Sid unbuttoned his own jeans, drawing out a piece of anatomy Woody had only ever seen when Andy changed clothes. Dread and helplessness rushing through him, Woody could only look down from his shelf as Sid flipped Andy over, spit into his free hand, stroked himself a few times, and thrust roughly into Andy’s backside.

Andy screamed, almost incoherent words like “stop” and “please” and “why” occasionally filtering through his sobs and cries of pain. When Sid finished, he zipped his jeans back up and rose from Andy’s now still body. He patted Andy’s bare bottom, and Andy groaned.

“Not bad,” Sid said with a smirk before leaving the room. A minute later, Woody heard the front door open and slam closed.

For a long moment, Woody couldn’t gather his thoughts, too shocked by what had happened. Then he focused on his child—teen.

 _Call the police, Andy,_ Woody begged silently. He’d seen the talk shows and newscasts when Andy’s mother had stayed home during the day; he knew what v-victims—oh, Andy—had to do. _Andy, please, call the police._ The thought bounced around in his immobile head.

But Andy just lay curled where Sid had left him, tears and snot streaming down his face. His body shook with choked sobs.

Woody wished Andy could figure out what he was thinking just like Andy had during playtime as a child. But no one was playing now, and no one was a child anymore. Inside his cotton chest, Woody’s heart broke.

And then Andy slowly, carefully rose, pulled up his pants, and hobbled to the bathroom. As soon as the door shut, the room filled with the frantic movements of toys.

“What do we do?” Bo cried, hand hovering over her mouth in horror.

“We’ll hunt down that evil, evil monster,” Jessie spat, stomping her foot.

Slinky growled, Potato Head cracked his knuckles, Buzz wrapped a comforting arm around Rex’s heaving neck, and for once, the aliens were quiet.

“All right, all right, all right,” Woody said, shushing everyone. “Calm down.”

“Calm down?” Jessie repeated angrily. “Woody, did you see—”

“Yes, of course I saw!” Woody snapped, feeling nauseous and trying not to let the images assault his mind again.

“Then what do we do?” Hamm asked. All the toys looked at Woody expectantly.

Woody ran a hand over his plastic hair. “I…I don’t know,” he finally said, shoulders slumping in defeat. “What can toys do in the real world?” Everyone bowed their heads.

“We’ll be there for him.” Buzz’s voice broke the grief settling over them. “Just like we’ve always been.” He looked to Woody for confirmation, and Woody felt hope flare again.

“Yes.” Woody nodded firmly. “Exactly. We’ll do what toys do best. Be his friends.”

The doorknob to the bathroom rattled. “Quick, back to your places!” Woody ordered, and everyone scrambled. Woody climbed back to his shelf next to Buzz, shared a reassuring nod with his friend, and went limp.

Andy walked back into the room wearing different clothes and no longer sobbing, although the tear tracks never disappeared from his face no matter how many times he swiped at his cheeks. He threw the bundle of dirty clothes into a corner and turned away from them, then stood in the middle of his room looking completely lost. Woody ached to reach out to him.

Eyes darting from the door to the bathroom to the floor and everyone else in the room except the one corner, Andy remained indecisive until, finally, his eyes landed on Woody and Buzz.

Andy limped over to the toy shelf, eyes lining up with Woody’s. Hiccupping, he wrapped a hand around Woody’s torso and pulled him down. He began to sit on the edge of his bed, winced, and remained standing.

“It’s not fair,” he whispered brokenly, staring at Woody as if remembering better times. His face crumpled, and he clutched Woody to him, wrapping his arms around the toy in a crushing hug. And if Woody pressed his arms into Andy’s skin a little harder, well, he thought the toy gods would forgive him this time.

“What do I do?” Andy moaned. “I’m so sorry, Woody. You were always there for me, and I haven’t p-paid attention to you in years…”

 _And I’ll always be there for you, buddy,_ Woody thought with all his might. _You never have to apologize for anything._

“What would you do?” Andy’s voice and shaking calmed slightly, and Woody could practically hear his thoughts as he roleplayed with Woody in another impossible scenario that they always solved at the last minute.

Woody felt his string pull out. “You’re my favorite deputy!” he said.

Andy stilled, then exhaled. “Okay. Deputy. Okay.” He took a deep breath, as if fortifying himself, picked up the phone, and dialed three numbers. Woody almost sighed in relief.

“Hello? I…I…I need to r-report a…an attack…” Andy’s voice rose an octave as he tried to fight off hysterics. Woody remained pressed against his belly while Andy talked to the person on the other end of the line, stayed with him when the police arrived. He landed on the bed, though, when Andy’s mother ran into the room and enveloped her son in a tight hug, soothing him. Woody was content to have done what he could.

When the paramedics ushered Andy gently to the door, though, Andy paused, looked back, and after a moment’s hesitation, grabbed Woody up again and took him out to the ambulance with him.


End file.
